


Before the sun could rise

by Mazen



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Love Never Dies - Lloyd Webber, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Beneath a Moonless Sky, F/M, Love Never Dies fix, a little smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 12:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19250992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazen/pseuds/Mazen
Summary: She came and found where he hid.Love Never Dies fix.





	Before the sun could rise

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a mini ficlet challenge that I couldn't handle - it was simply too long. So instead I post it here.

She woke to a rustle in the sheets of the small bed she was in. Not her own. At first she struggled to remember where she was, but when she opened her eyes a bit, she could see the silhouette of the clothed back of a tall, lean man that she had come to know so well. Intimately after she had found him last night. 

She hadn’t planned for any of this to happen. But perhaps in some ways she had always known that he would be her first, ever since she stepped through the mirror for the first time. She had expected him to seduce her and take her, but instead he had been a gentleman and not touched her in the night she’d spent in his lair.

She had been ready to give herself to him until she saw his anger when she removed his mask. That moment had changed everything between him and thoughts about letting him take her had turned from exciting to terrifying. Not because of his face or what deformities might be hidden by his clothes, but because of his anger.

It was until she had felt his lips against hers that the fear had been extinguished. He would never hurt her. He truly did love her. And she had been ready to give her body to him, but instead he had sent her away.

It’d made her feel fickle to marry Raoul after having promised herself to her Angel, but  _he_  had been the one to send  _her_  away, so she had upholden her engagement to marry Raoul.

But as her wedding to Raoul had approached, the thoughts of her Angel had haunted her. Not his fury nor even his sorrow as she handed him the ring he’d put on her finger. No, it was the thought of being in the arms of another after she had felt her Angel’s touch. Which is why she'd had to find him. 

 

* * *

 

 

It was her last night as an unmarried woman that she went to Madame Giry. She was the closest thing Christine had to a mother, so it had been easy to convince Raoul to let her go. But more importantly for Christine, Madame Giry knew more about the Opera Ghost than anyone else.

The madame didn't know where he had gone and denied any knowledge that might lead her to him. It wasn’t until tears fell from Christine’s eyes that the ballet mistress gave her the address of the strange Persian who had roamed the opera halls the last years and who had helped Raoul find the Phantom’s lair. Apparently he knew more of the Phantom than anyone else and was the best chance of finding her Angel.

Despite the fact that it wasn’t proper conduct for an unmarried woman to visit a man’s home in the evening, she went alone to the address with every intention of persuading the Persian to tell her the whereabouts of her Angel. But before she could lift the knocker on the Persian’s door, she heard the most haunting of melodies lifting from a violin in the evening air. It came from behind the Persian’s house and quickly she found the gate to the backyard.

Away from the street lights it was eerily dark. The moon was hidden behind thick clothes and offered no light to aid her in finding her way through the garden. But she followed the heart-breaking melody that she knew belonged to _him_. No one else could play like him. And so she found him in a little dark shed in the Persian’s garden.

When she reached for the door handle, the music stopped abruptly and the door was ripped open. There he was: Tall and imposing, yet so enticing. In the dark she could only feel him, but she felt like a moth to a flame. He staggered backwards, stuttering her name, and she followed him in silence. His golden eyes were the only indication she had of where he had gone: on the bed; his eyes on her own which he found easily as he could see much more in the dark than she could.

“Why did you send me away, my Angel?” She asked. 

“Because I’m not your Angel. I’m only Erik and Erik is not worthy Christine.” His answer was surprising; never had she entertained the idea that he might have a real name. “Why are you here, madame de Chagny?”

She cringed at the sound of the name she would bear the very next day. “I am not married yet. That is why I’m here.” The words left her mouth without having been filtered in her brain and his hitching breath told her that he had noticed the implication; that she was here because she hadn’t given herself to Raoul yet.

In her haste to forget her last words, she verbally assaulted him with his deception of her and the crimes he had committed in her name. When tears fell on her cheeks, he finally rose from his seat and went to her to wipe away the tears. His eyes never left hers, serious and compassionate in a way she had never seen before. Had she taught him that?

When she finished blaming him for all his faults and some of her own, he pulled her into his arms and whispered words of apology. He didn’t sound like he was used to apologizing, but she knew that he meant every word. Soon the words turned into whispers of love and devotion, setting her heart aflame, as well as her body. Goosebumps rose on her skin and her heart pounded in her chest.

“Am I’m frightening you?” He asked when he noticed the increase in her breathing. He was breathing hard as well, she noted, and his voice sounded raspy.

She looked up at his adoring, golden eyes and knew that she could never be afraid of him again. The thought of leaving his arms was what frightened her. “Only if you let me go again.” She reached up to touch his face and felt no mask, just the distorted flesh that had kept his genius mind and loving heart from being shared with the world.

She kissed him then; chastely at first, but soon passion overtook them both. She didn't notice which of one led them to the small cot, but soon she found herself lying beneath him. She was the first to remove her clothing with his aid to shorten the process. Then he shredded his own clothes and lowered himself on top of her.

She expected him to take her then, but instead he kissed and suckled her skin everywhere until lights danced before her very eyes. He pulled away from her, but she begged him back to join her in the flesh. With hesitation he found her wet folds again and entered her slowly while their moans filled the small space around them.

She’d expected pain, especially when she realized the size of his engorged manhood, but the pain never came. It was overwhelming to be filled in such a way, but it felt right. He proclaimed the same as tears fell from his eyes and he spoke of how much he loved her.

It didn't last long. He fought to keep it slow, but when she by instinct began to lift her hips to meet his thrusts, he groaned loudly and gripped her hips tightly as he reached completion. It mattered not to her because he had already ensured her pleasure, but he was ashamed. So he worshiped her body once again until she screamed his true name as her body spasmed around his fingers.

Her pleasure aroused him and soon he was inside her again where he belonged. They reached crescendo together this time with his finger on her pleasure bud and his hand on her breast while she moved on top of him until they both cried out.

She fell asleep in his arms, sated and loved, knowing that she would never want to be anywhere else than with him.

 

* * *

 

He was silently crying now as he dressed himself while she lay alone on the small bed; she could see it in the way his shoulders twitched.

Her heart ached for him. And it longed for him. It always had, she realized. She hadn’t just come to give her body to him. She had come to give him her heart, mind and soul. She loved him; all of him. She wanted to spend her life with him.

Under her sheets she slipped off the ring on her finger; Raoul’s ring. That finger had always belonged to her Angel’s ring. Erik, she reminded herself. She had after all gasped his name in rapture, she thought and felt herself blush. She would tell him that she loved and hopefully he would allow her to wear his ring again.

But she didn’t dare to rise and tell him this minute because she knew it would embarrass him if he knew that she had seen him cry. Again. So she waited until he had composed himself.

When he was completely dressed, he turned around. In a hurry she closed her eyes and breathed calmly as if she was still asleep. She felt him kneel in front of her face.

“My beautiful Christine. What joy you have brought me!” He whispered in a strangled voice. “If only I deserved you.” He kissed her forehead softly and she felt his mask scratch her skin. Her brows furrowed unintentionally and he pulled back swiftly.

“All I bring you is pain. I have nothing to offer you, but my music and my love and a life in hiding. But like the precious rose you are, you can only flourish in the light. You have brought me inconceivable happiness for one night. It is now my duty to let you be happy for yourself. Marry your boy and live your life in the sun.” He began to cry again and rose from her side. She realized that he truly meant to leave her.

He had reached the door when she flew from the cot and launched at him. He turned in surprise and she pounded her fists into his chest. “How dare you leave me? Are you so callous? I gave myself to you! I LOVE YOU and you just leave me?” Her screams filled the shed and she was actually embarrassed to act in such an unwomanly way, but she was so angry.

And he let her beat him, standing with wide eyes, but without touching her. She slapped his left cheek, but it wasn’t enough and so she reached to remove his mask to clear the way for her left palm to connect with the misshaped cheek that deserved the same treatment as the unblemished one.

It was only then he took her wrists in his hands and finally she stopped assaulting him. He was much stronger than her; there was no use in fighting. When she calmed, he released her wrists.

Outside the sun was slowing rising and orange light streamed into the shed from the little window in the door. She finally saw him fully. His sunken eyes were red and puffed from crying and his thin lips swollen from her kisses. He wore a solemn expression.

“You don’t love me.” He whispered as if it was a fact of life: The grass is green, the sky is blue, Christine doesn’t love me. “You don’t have to feel obligated to stay with me, just because of what happened between us. Your Vicomte surely won’t notice.”

This time she did slap him on his right cheek, enough to make the mask crooked. He lifted his hand to his covered cheek in shock and corrected the mask’s position. It seemed to have hurt more than the other cheek, possibly because the porcelain had enhanced the blow, and it satisfied Christine a bit. “I don’t feel obligated and I do not regret what happened. I love you!” She slowly reached up to hold her hand over his heart. It was pounding away in his chest.

His eyes went even wider and he opened and closed his mouth a few times. He looked down at her hand before pulling it away. “Christine, you can have no real life with me. I’m a fugitive. That’s no life for you. You deserve to sing in the spotlight, not hide in the dark with me.”

“I won’t sing anyway if I marry Raoul.” This time Erik’s mouth dropped open in shock. “A Vicomtess cannot sing at the opera, Erik. It’s unseemly enough that he is marrying a former opera singer.”

He staggered back against the door. “But Christine, you can’t live without your music.”

"I can't live without _our_ music. You are my music. Take me with you and we’ll make music together. I’ll follow anywhere you lead me.” She tugged his head down and kissed him softly. He responded after a moment; groaning into her mouth as if he finally was ready to stop denying the truth. He pulled her into his arms and deepened the kiss, making her moan. The mask bothered her, so her left hand reached up to pull it away. Once again he grabbed her wrist and they both pulled away from the kiss.

That’s when he looked at her hand, her naked finger without Raoul’s ring. He glanced at her with a question in his eyes and she nodded. He dropped her wrist and pulled off the mask himself, this time daring her to recoil from him. She did no such thing. Instead she took his hand and gently removed his ring from his pinkie and handed it to him while extending her left hand. He went down on his knees in front of her and slipped the golden ring on the finger it belonged. Then he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her bare breasts.

She hadn’t realized that she was still naked until that very moment. It excited her beyond words to stand bare before him and her nipples hardened, one of them touching his right cheek. He looked up at her with tear-filled eyes, yet a dark expression that she now knew the meaning of: Lust. In a swooping motion he lifted her while rising from the floor and carried her to the cot.

He rose tall over her in a thrilling way that made her skin long for his touch. There was no doubt in her mind that she wanted to spend her life with this man: With love, music and pleasure, they would be sustained for life.

 

 


End file.
